|
Details “Michael in the Middle” (excerpt from an interview with Michael Stipe) I FOLLOW MICHAEL STIPE TO LOS ANGELES, WHERE HE’S WORKING on music and
undergoing dental work. I visit him at a studio where he is recording a song
with Tori Amos for Don Juan De Marco and the Centerfold. We are supposed
to spend time talking together, but they are running behind so it isn’t
impossible (“I feel like a bad date,” he apologizes), and instead I just watch.
Perhaps you have wondered what happens when records are made. Sometimes it goes
like this: “Come in,” he says when I arrive. “We were just talking about cannibalism.”
Tori Amos sends Michael into the vocal booth. He sings, but too quietly. “I’m
stuffed like a pig,” he apologizes to her. Then he burps at huge volume. “Why
can’t you sing as loud as you burp?” demands Amos. He sings the line again.
Silence. “Tor-eeeee?” he inquires. “Yes-eeeee,” she answers. “It sucked?” he inquires further. “No, it didn’t suck,” she says. “It was great. The pitch was kind of funky, but it should
be good...” He tries a new harmony. “Was that a third?” he asks
apologetically. “Yes,” she says sternly. “It’s okay - we’re still friends. I won’t pee on you.”
She turns to me. “I hate thirds,” she
explains. Michael returns to the control room; they listen to the playback. “The tone of my voice is so...” - he pauses, looking for the right words - “Grand
Canyon.” It is Tori’s turn to sing. She adds a new countermelody to the chorus. “It’s
Moses parting the Red Sea,” says Stipe. “Yeah, it’s exactly that,” says
Amos dryly. “It’s a Charlton Heston in a fright wig,” he continues, unbowed Stephen Dorff arrives. Michael shows him the sparkly black trousers he took
from the Details photo session this morning, and turns around so that
Dorff can pull down the back and see the label. Tori goes off to sing some
more. Michael instructs her to try an octave higher. “Are you serious?” she says. “You’ll say I’m a new-age Druid.” “I’ll allow it,” he says. “Enya has left the building.” She sings it again. “More balls,” he says. “More balls? Like I care about you?” “Be a redhead.” She tries to follow these instructions. “I think it’s a little precious,” he says. “Push the same amount of air but
make it a little wilder, and we’re on the way to Zaire.” This time she not only follows these instructions to everyone’s satisfaction
but sings the words “on the way to Zaire.” If it makes the final, cut, it will
be just the thing for generations of Stipeoplogists to overponder for months at
a time. Tori suggests that it is time to break out the Guinness. Bottles are passed
around, and the entire song is played. “Would you fuck to this, Chris?” she asks
me. “I would.” Maybe I would, I say. “We’ll put it on a loop for you,” offers Michael. “I’ll wear my rubber dress,” she says. |